I got into my dad’s favorite BMW while Ravi drove his Land Rover. Sometimes I envied him for having his own car, but despite not having one of my own, due to the punishment imposed by my father a year ago, the BMW was more powerful. Of that, I was sure.

I would certainly go another year without my own vehicle if my father found out that I took his car without permission.

Ravi made the engine roar. There was no one to authorize our departure. He raised one of his hands and started the countdown: 3

Accelerated, the tire screeched, leaving marks on the road. Ravi took the lead. The deserted streets of Curitiba allowed us to split quickly. We went to the main track at high speed and during almost the entire journey, Ravi was winning. This wasn’t the first time we’d run clandestine races through the city streets. I lost count of how many times I did this with Ravi himself, and how many other times I was the winner. I let him taste victory for a few more kilometers, until I accelerated, making all the vehicle’s power work in my favor, approaching me, meter by meter. The arrival was closer, less than ten kilometers. Overtook him in the following meters. Accelerate Even more. The taste of victory was sweet, and I let out a smile. I took my attention off the track, turning my face back to try to see the expression of fury on his face, but it was almost impossible, I was way ahead of him, when I turned around again, there was no more time to stop. My eyes widened.

I slammed on the brakes; the vehicle skidded down the road, losing speed little by little. 100, 80, 60 kilometers per hour until impact, but there was no time to avoid the accident. I just listened to the noise, with my eyes closed, and the body of a man being thrown across the track. A bicycle in front of me, almost destroyed. He broke the bumper and dented the front part. I had a deep cut on my eyebrow. My body ached, my head throbbed. I, still dizzy, unbuckled off the car, and almost collapsed when I realized what I had just done. Ravi parked his car a few meters away, but it didn’t take long. He reversed and immediately took off, leaving me alone to take all the blame.

“Cowardly son of a bitch”

What more could I expect from a guy who hated me?

I walked towards the man and checked his heartbeat.

“Please God, don’t let this man die. I don’t want to be arrested”

This idea of ​​prison almost paralyzed my ability to think. The man was still alive. I could just run away from there, but fear neutralized me. In my mind, if I stayed, maybe I could get away with it without having to go to jail.

Took my cell phone out of my pocket and 911.

“I ran over a man, please come quickly”

I showered a truckload of trouble on me. That man lying on the ground. Someone damaged my father's car. Disobedience, traffic violation. Drunk driving. How many years would I be in jail? Ten, twenty years? Maybe less or nothing if my dad posted bail? Could I answer freely? My head was buzzing with all the possibilities of the crime I had just committed. At least I was being brave enough to stand there and take the punishment I deserved.

The ambulance arrived, along with the police, in less than ten minutes. I still hoped the man was alive. Paramedics immobilized him and placed him on a stretcher. My heart eased. I know it’s a miracle that the man is alive, and despite the braking, the impact was hard, or maybe I braked enough not to kill him.

A police officer approached, identifying himself, and started asking me several questions. A Breathalyzer test was done. I’m fucked. The police officer ordered my arrest right away. He told my rights while handcuffing me. I closed my eyes. It was a nightmare, I’m going to wake up at any moment, but when I realized I was already inside the car, I was being directed to the police station.

Leticia Albuquerque

It was about midnight and the sound of the house next door was so loud that I could feel my bed shaking. I got up, highly irritated. João couldn’t sleep. The man didn't feel pain anymore. He didn’t complain either. He mumbled something when I left the house, perhaps to avoid the trouble I would cause. But their efforts were in vain. When I found myself, I was already there.

When I returned, he was still awake, now sitting on the bed.

“Are you okay?” he asked me, intrigued, and I took a while to answer the question.

“I am,” I replied, but I knew there was a huge frown line on my forehead.

“You don’t have to go there every time they decide to have a party” João was so concerned about not bothering others that he allowed others to take away even his peace. "They are good neighbors”.

“There is nothing good about disrupting the tranquility of the entire neighborhood." My voice came out harsh. ”Ravi is so lazy, and he has some horrible friends”.

“What was happening out there?"

João was already a gentleman of more than sixty years of age and, due to experience and coexistence, he knew me better than anyone else. Between his question and my answer, there was a silence, as I was still trying to understand the turmoil of feelings that were taking over me.

“Nothing to worry about. “I shrugged when I remembered that boastful boy. “I hope I never meet that man again in my life”.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Father” I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down, throwing all the memories of that meeting to the back of my memory “it’s a pastime for you to be sleeping. I don’t want to receive complaints from Maria tomorrow, telling me that you slept all day”.

“Maria has nothing to complain about,” he snorted. He seemed irritated just by remembering her “are you sure you’re okay?”

”Better now.” I offered him a calming smile. "Tomorrow we’ll talk more about it”.

But we didn’t talk. I didn’t want to talk more about the events of that night, or remember Ravi’s parties or his annoying friends. I turned off the light and said my prayer one more time.

Daylight was already showing outside when I woke up before the alarm clock. I got up, watching my dad sleep, what felt like a heavy sleep. The snoring coming out of his lungs told me he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon. I ran into the bathroom to take my shower and get ready for work. I intended to be ready before Maria arrived. Furthermore, I went into the kitchen and was making coffee when the front door opened with its rancher. Hurried footsteps came towards me as Maria’s crinkly, loving eyes met mine.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, as she hung her worn-out bag on the jamb attached to the entrance wall.

I looked at the clock and found Maria’s perception of the time strange. It wasn’t even twenty minutes past her normal arrival time.

“It’s absurdly cold outside” she was still in a hurry to speak “and there was a horrible accident with my neighbor’s husband last night”.

“How did it happen?” I strained the coffee, and the smell was always wonderful.

“He was run over,” she seemed worried as said, “he was returning from his delivery work, when a car hit him. Miraculously, that man did not die”.

Maria walked towards me and filled a cup with coffee, not waiting for me to pour it into the carafe.

“Was it really that bad?”

“Extremely serious.” he took a sip. "He underwent surgery last night and is in a coma”.

“I’m sorry, Maria,” I looked at her, forgetting to drink my coffee. “Was the driver arrested?”

“He gave himself up” he took another drink. "He was driving drunk”.

I looked at her, really scared and thoughtful about the accident.

“How absurd,” my eyes bugged out. “I wish your neighbor a good recovery and that this driver is stuck for a long time”.

“I hope so.” He took the last sip of his coffee. He put the glass down in the sink and seemed to return to his own reality. “And how is João doing?”

”Asleep” that was when I remembered that I needed to drink my coffee before going to work “and due to the events of last night, he won’t wake up so early”.

“Another party?”

“It wouldn’t be news” I took a long sip and looked at her. "Don’t let him go hours without eating”.

“I’ll try to accomplish this impossible mission,” he said, “but don’t worry”.

“Thanks, Maria” I put on my coat and grabbed my purse. "See you tonight”.

I heard her say, “go with God” as I walked through the door. An icy wind hit my face, and I shivered. I hurried down the street when I saw Ravi at the door of his house with two other boys. None of them looked like the man from the night before. I sighed in relief. But Ravi looked worried. He didn’t notice me passing by, but he’ll soon hear from me when I knock again on his door, to let his parents know he’s been having a good time while they’re away.

I turned my attention to the path I was walking and twenty minutes later; I saw the big house from afar. The orphanage looked like those old medieval castles. Abandoned house, with haunted appearance. With huge imperial windows and walls built with brown bricks. It was located on a street isolated from the others on the west side of Curitiba. But that environment was familiar to me. I took the keys from my purse and crossed the extensive garden in front of the residence. I spotted Sister Adelina in the window above, watching me. Not only that, but I smiled at her before heading to the front door and stepping inside. Gustavo didn’t even give me time to lay my coat on one of the chairs at the entrance. He hugged me tight, like he did every morning.

“Good morning, champion.” I ran my hands over his back, while I bent down to be at his height. "Did you sleep well?”

“Like every night,” he smiled, and they mostly made his teeth of milk. “She had small eyes and her hair was straight”.

“Do you have your breakfast yet? I asked”.

“I was waiting for you”.

Gustavo was an orphan. His parents had died in a car accident when he was just two years old. No close relative wanted to stay with him. Now, at the age of six, the Mother Teresa Orphanage was the home he had, and I was the family he knew.

“I need to go say my prayers,” he reminded him, “and only then will I have coffee with you. Can you wait?”

“Of course I did. I stood up, still looking into his eyes”.

“Wait for me in the cafeteria and in twenty minutes I’ll be there”.

He nodded and hurried off towards the other room of the house. I went downstairs to the basement and into the chapel. The orphanage was an old empire farm. Built in 1859, it was a successful Baron’s home. The chapel has remained intact since its construction. Of all the rooms in that house, this one was my favorite. I was not a Catholic, but a Protestant heretic, as Sister Adelina referred to me. But I liked going to that place and getting down on my knees, even if it wasn’t in front of the images. I thanked God for that day and for everything else.

On one of those days, weeks after the party at Ravi’s house, while I was praying in the chapel, the sister entered the room with hurried steps. Standing next to me, with the grumpy air she always had, she brought me news that made me very uncomfortable.

“We received a court order” I stood up, looking at her with wide eyes. "A condemned boy will come to the orphanage to perform community service here”.

“And you accepted?”

“The big house belongs to the government,” ​​she remained with a not very pleasant expression. "We only maintain the orphanage because of donations from public bodies. We cannot deny it. Nor should we”.

“A criminal inside the orphanage?”

Sister Adelina said nothing about my comment.

“You will be responsible for supervising the boy,” he informed me. "He arrives on Monday”.

“I can’t…” I stammered, finding that an affront. “I already take care of the children, I won’t have time for that”.

“It will continue to take care of it,” he said. "It will only have one more member”.

“But…”

“No complaints.” She held up her hand in a stop sign. “You’re well paid to work. So work”.

I watched as the sister turned her back and hurried out of the chapel as quickly as she came. I collapsed onto the bench behind me and wondered what God’s purpose in my life was for all of this.

Jonathan Campos

The cold handcuffs rubbed against my wrists, leaving them red and irritated. I am taken out of the police car and directed to the chief’s office. He was a young man and seemed to know my father well.

”Jonathan Campos?” He looked at me, intrigued.

“Yes,” I said, but I couldn’t see the man’s eyes.

“Your father won’t like it one bit when he finds out you’re here”.

I looked at the deputy and opened my mouth to say something related to my dad, but he got up and said,

“You’re entitled to a call.” I turned my face back, and he was standing with the door open, waiting for me to leave. "Call Marcelo and let him know you’re here”.

”Aren’t you going to interrogate me?”

“Certainly,” I got up and approached him. “You have the right to a lawyer, and you should be aware that anything you say can be used against you”.

He came around behind me and took the handcuffs off. I sighed in relief. He led the way, so I could make the call, and as I walked there, I thought how lucky I was to have stopped at the police station where the sheriff was my dad’s friend. The impression I had was that he was somehow trying to favor me.

I stopped in front of the counter and looked at the phone in front of me. My blood froze. In a few minutes, I would be getting the biggest lecture of my life.

“What are you waiting for, kid?” There was a police officer in front of me with an expression of few friends “if you wait just one more second, you won’t be able to call”.

I swallowed hard and picked up the device. I dialed the number and waited for him to answer. It was already two o’clock in the morning. He called once, twice, three times, and on the seventh call a voice on the other end almost made me lose the courage to go through with it.

“Hi dad” I closed my eyes while throwing the bomb “I was arrested”.

“He was arrested.” Maybe I went too fast. "What have you done this time, Jonathan?”

”When you get here, I’ll explain." My voice was calm, but inside there was chaos. “I’m in the city’s 35 PD”.

There was silence on the other end of the line and I know what that meant: Marcelo had his eyes closed, and his fists clenched, trying not to lose control.

“Whatever it is, just know that you’re pretty fucked up with me”.

And he hung up. The police officer took me back to the sheriff’s office, but it was now empty. I stayed there, sitting in the half light of an one lamp, without handcuffs. I had time to think about the events of the last few hours and the consequences that would soon follow. Furthermore, I had performed that act so many times and nothing like it had ever happened. Every time I got in the car to race, I made sure of myself. And come out victorious. I never thought that I would arrest someone or put someone’s life at risk. Until now.

The door opening dispelled all my thoughts and the figure of my father standing right behind me brought out other fears. Marcelo sat next to me, silent, but the look he gave me was like an entire book thrown into my head. The delegate sat across from us. My judgment would begin there.

“They arrested Jonathan for drunk driving” Marcelo passed his hand over his face “and for being run over”.

“Did you hit someone?” His voice rose.

“He called emergency services himself and stayed at the crime scene until the police arrived”.

“It was the bare minimum.” He fidgeted in his chair. I knew my father well, and I knew he was holding back from making things worse. "Were there any deaths?”

“No, but the man is in serious condition in the hospital”.

“Mercy” he lowered his head, passing his hands over his forehead, drying the sweat “and now? Will Jonathan get arrested?”

“He can answer freely, after he pays the bill”.

I watched Marcelo get up and walk around the room a few times.

“You deserve to be locked up”. He stopped beside me and pointed his finger at me. His eyes bugged out with every word pronounced “he deserves to stay here, so, who knows, stop being an irresponsible brat”.

“Calm down, Marcelo,” the police chief said. “Jonathan is a non-repeat offender. Post bail and hire a lawyer”.

Marcelo knew exactly what I was doing on the streets of Curitiba at that time. He knew about the races I participated in, and that’s why he imposed a punishment on me not to drive his cars for a year. But I was a fearless and strong-willed guy.

“We can get on with the process, then”.

The sheriff led my father out of the room, and they decided to pay the bail. A lawyer was called and when we finally left the police station, it was already light. I kept silent the whole time, thought, and the only thing that kept me dark was the fact that the man hit by the car could die at any moment.

“I will prosecute him for a culpable crime and could face a sentence of two to four years in prison,” the lawyer was saying, “but we can revert that sentence to community service.

Marcelo listened to everything in silence, thought. He said goodbye to the lawyer and after the man left; he turned his attention to me.

“He took my car without my permission. It damaged the BMW. You almost killed someone” your breathing was heavy “lucky for you, I didn’t mention in there the other crime you commit doing cracks”.

“I didn’t mean to run that man over,” I said at last.

“Of course there wasn’t,” it was ironic, “you participate in a race, drunk, with the intention of having fun. When are you going to become a man, Jonathan?”

I did not answer.

“Since justice certainly won’t punish you, I certainly will.” He walked around to the car and got in. I went in right away “starting today, if you want to eat, you’ll have to work. No car, no stewardship”.

“Do you swear?” I mocked, even though I knew I shouldn’t do that.

“There will be a time to get home and a time to leave,” he continued, “otherwise, you’ll sleep on the street. You will pay your own expenses starting today”.

“It would be more advantageous to be arrested,” he said, and he started the car.

“Certainly yes,” he said, “prison would be more pleasant”.

Marcelo was the most important and richest businessman in the city of Curitiba. I was from an influential family known throughout the State of Parana. I would plaster my face in all the newspapers that same day as the delinquent son of the great business executive Marcelo Campo. I knew how ashamed he felt about that. But surely hardly anyone knows what it’s like to be the son of a successful business executive. Father absence, principles not taught. I don’t remember any case, in my childhood, where my father took me to play soccer, or for a family outing. I grew up without having him by my side, and certainly, even if I denied it, I did all that to get his attention. Marcelo was always busy, increasing his fortune, while I grew up without reins. It was filling the void with cars, expensive gifts, and a simple life. Now an adult, maybe he realized that it was too late to fix the mistake of his absence.

My mother was heartbroken when she heard the news. Possibly, she was the only one who cared about me. They forbid me to leave the city and had to attend the city forum a few times. I was judged by the jury and sentenced to pay a one-year sentence with basic food baskets and community services in an orphanage.

For a few moments, I wanted to be arrested to submit to those things. I was twenty-five years old and had never worked. I woke up at six in the morning every day, took a crowded bus to go to my father’s company, and spent eight hours a day redoing reports. Furthermore, I returned home and spent more than an hour on a crowded bus. I had time to go in and out of the house, and I was getting tired of that life. Now I would have to work in an orphanage.

“He’s going to go to the orphanage at eight, and he’s going to stay there until one in the afternoon,” my father would tell me. “The rest of the day, he’ll go to the company”.

“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?”

“Do you think I’m exaggerating?” he was still furious. "It paralyzed the man you hit and will never be able to go out to work and support his family. And do you think it’s overkill?”

“I told you it wasn’t intentional”.

“And I’ve already told you that I’m not going to discuss this with you again until you learn the value of life”.

I did not say anything. I was too tired to argue with my father.

“Tomorrow you start working at the orphanage”.

“The sentence came out today, Father”.

“So what?” his words were bitter. “Comply with the court order”.

He left and left me feeling like I was living in hell.